


a collapsing star with tunnel vision

by haikquu



Series: phools {klance} [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Language of Flowers, M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), still keiths pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-07 20:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14089125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haikquu/pseuds/haikquu
Summary: Oh.Keith went through a very complex progression of emotions just then. There was something bittersweet about it. He'd never been told he was cared about by someone who wasn't in his family before. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system but it felt like everything surrounding him disappeared, like all the lights suddenly went off and the only thing he could see was Lance ahead of him.Oh.





	a collapsing star with tunnel vision

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for all the lovely comment so far!! it makes me so happy and definitely motivates me to post more!!!
> 
> yes every title is a reference to a fall out boy song it has absolutely no correlation with anything i just lvoe fob ad mania and ya
> 
> also this is part 2 of the series! i suggest u read part 1 first bc it would make more sense lol  
> https://archiveofourown.org/series/972534
> 
> me: “Sometimes science is a liar."  
> saima: All the times, actually :-)”

It seemed that Keith couldn’t catch a break. It was another weekday in the shop: the plants were their usual colour of oversaturated green, the sun was auspiciously bright through the alcoves and Lance was once again in the shop. Keith was used to it by now, had stopped questioning it even. It was hard to imagine that a few months ago he’d never thought any of this would be possible, but now his brother was back in town, his high school friend _worked_ with him in his shop, and he had made a new friend.

Well, not quite a friend.

Keith wasn't really sure what Lance was.

Lance was annoying, that Keith could say without second thought. He was loud, boisterous, and annoying _as fuck_. But he also was really smart, witty and sometimes kind of fun to have around the shop.

But Keith would never say that out loud, of course.

They’d fallen into a strange rhythm over the last few weeks. It wasn't strange in that it was uncomfortable -- in fact, it was the contrary and far _too_ comfortable. Keith wasn't the most personable of people: all throughout high school Pidge had been his only real friend and as soon as he left for university, even that had ended. He wasn't the best at bonding or maintaining connections, which is what confused him deeply about his new situation.

He’d even been added to their _groupchat_. Albeit, he rarely talked and almost never understood what the conversation was about, he still couldn't help but find himself a little touched by the sentiment regardless. He felt like he’d been approved as worthy to join their little circle.

Keith found himself hating his days in the shop less and less, with not as much time to think about it he supposed.

A crack of thunder caused them both to jump. A loud drumming interrupted the silence, heavy rain pummelling the glass of the alcove above.

“Oh shit, I forgot about the thunderstorm.” Lance cursed, quickly getting up. Keith hurriedly got up too, opening his phone to check the weather.

“Yeah, looks like it started a bit earlier than predicted though.”

“Sometimes science is a liar.” Lance sighed, looking out the window of the shop despondently. The sky outside was dark, the streetlights reduced to faint glows in the mirage of the rain.

Keith couldn't help but smile, the comforting image of the softened yellow glow slightly fragmented by slices of the rain droplets. There was another flash of lightning and a crack of thunder, the pounding of the rain getting heavier in compliment.

“I thought so,” Lance commented softly. Keith’s head turned towards him, looking quizzically at the other boy. “You seem like a rain type of guy.”

Keith tried to fight another smile that was creeping up onto his face, both at the soft hammering of the rain on the glass alcove increasing tempo, and Lance’s eyes on him.

“It’s nice,” he simply replied, turning away from Lance quickly to look back up at the alcove. Usually he hated the thing, a useless piece of glass (that only served to make his apartment smaller… and sustain the plants’ lives whatever) that let in way too much light and heat and got dirty way too easily, resulting in alarming shadows on the floor and walls of the place. But now, looking up at the dark sky and the ceaseless pounding on rain on the surface above, the glass looking like it was almost melting into ripples and waves, he felt so calm.

“What's the word for it? _Petrichor_? I don't know, I must’ve seen it on a tumblr blog somewhere.” Keith looked at the other boy quizzically, who in turn rolled his eyes. “Your brand is literally a 2010 edgy black  & white Tumblr blog.”

“Shut up,” Keith replied back, a little more softly than perhaps needed. He couldn't help it, he was pathetically docile during storms where the rain was his pathetic fallacy, however, opposed to gloomy it was calm and comforting and warm. Keith stretched his arms out over his head, making a pleased sound as he stretched.

Lance tilted his head in a sort of amused surprise, staring at Keith.

“Oh my god, did you just _purr_?”

“Shut up.” Keith repeated light-heartedly, rolling his eyes.

“Wow,” Lance commented dryly. “That's it? No retort? I suppose the rain takes away the cat’s bite, duly noted.”

Keith rolled his eyes again and let his head hang back, watching the rain on the alcove. He could see movement from the corner of his eyes and lowered his chin slightly, to observe Lance as he moved around the shop. It was different from when Lance had first set foot into the place, Keith felt less anxious. He didn't feel attached to the shop, obviously, but Lance had bumbled in like some sort of hurricane and it was during Keith’s shift so he’d have to deal with the consequences.

He thought in amusement about how the boy had changed in the last few months, his steps around the shop comfortable and well-practiced. Sometimes he would even pick a flower up _himself_ for someone else's order, being familiar with the way things were arranged on the shelves.

Maybe Keith should’ve questioned it more, how out of nowhere a stranger had wedged himself into his daily routine, and Keith had just _let him_.

But Lance had plugged in his phone to the shop’s speakers and that meant Keith had less time for his thoughts. (Never in his life had he had this many ABBA songs stuck in his head).

“You should get back soon before it gets worse.” he said to Lance, looking back down at him. Lance had his hand raised scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Yeah uh, about that... I didn't drive here today and I live like a 45 minute bus drive out.”

“What the fuck?” Keith exclaimed, eyes widen in surprise. “But you’re here like every day!”

“Yeah, like, I don’t live too far out from campus, and the campus isn't too far from here it's like the opposite and adjacent of a triangle, y’know?”

“But you don't have class every day. I know, otherwise I’d get more complaints.”

“No, it’s not an inconvenience or anything! There are a lot of things of other things this side of town, the library, grocery store, the hospital… important things… you know.”

“You really need flowers that badly? All for one girl?” Keith asked quizzically, watching Lance’s eyes drop slightly in response. He didn't mean it bitterly, he was genuinely puzzled by Lance’s decisions. Lord knew how much time he was wasting coming here nearly every day.

“It's not just for _one_ girl.” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “I’m popular! I have many suitors.”

“Don't they give flowers to you, then? ...Not the other way around?”

“I’m a benevolent suit-ee.”

Keith almost snorted at that, mystified slightly by the other boy’s brain. There was silence for  moment before a clap of thunder shattered the air, causing them both to jump.

“Okay, fine.” Keith sighed, making his way to the back room. Lance stayed in his spot, looking at him puzzled to the decision that Keith had silently come to. “Come in. There's no way you can go home in this weather.”

“I’m already inside?”

“No, come into my house.”

Lance’s jaw dropped. “No way.”

“Uh, yes-way.”

“ _No way-”_

“Lance, don’t make me take it back.” Lance quickly shut his mouth after that, raising his hand in mock solute.

“Sir, yes sir.”

 

* * *

 

“Wow.” Lance commented soon as they stepped into the room. Keith shut the door behind them, slipping of his shoes and looking across the room at Lance who was standing still, wide-eyed looking around at the place.

“Is that a bad wow?” Keith asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, no!” Lance quickly said, looking quite frazzled. “It just a little more bare than I expected.”

“I have art.”

‘No, like, I thought it would look more Pinterest-y. I mean, you _are_ a florist after all, I thought you’d have more flowers-”

“I don’t bring those up here.” Keith cut him off coldly, walking purposefully past Lance to the sofa in the middle of the living room.

“Right.” Lance stuttered out, following Keith after a few moments.

“Are you hungry?” Keith asked after a while, feeling a bit guilty.

“No.” Lance’s stomach rumbled. “Ok, yeah, a little but I don't want to trouble you.” He added sheepishly.

Biting back a smile, Keith said, “I need to eat anyways.”

Lance looked at Keith fumbling with the pasta shells and chuckled. Keith tried not to blush furiously. “You're not very good at looking after yourself, are you?” he teased.

Keith’s smile dropped for a split second, the familiarity of those words an echo of what Shiro would always say.

“So I’ve been told.” He retorted, a little stiffer than he would have liked. Lance raised an eyebrow in question, but dropped it when he realised Keith wasn't planning on expanding further.

“Let me do it.” Lance said softly after watching Keith fumble for a few seconds. Keith scoffed and continued stirring the pasta.

“Shit!” He cursed out as he stirred too hard and hot water splashed onto his hands.

Lance jolted out of his seat and grabbed Keith's hand, pulling him to the sink and quickly turning on the cold water. Keith held his gaze, just as stunned, partly from the burn and being dragged here so quickly, and also from the intensity of Lance’s gaze. Lance was close, so close. This near Keith could see his eyes fully, realised they were more of a blue-grey than the hazel he’d pegged them as earlier.  “Are you okay?” Lance hushed, face scrunched in concern.

Keith snapped out of it. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” His eyes dropped, fixating in where Lance was gripping around his wrist.

There was a loud hiss of water from the stove.

“Shit.” Lance cursed. “I think the pasta’s burnt,” he said, dropping Keith’s wrist as if _he’d_ been burnt. Lance sighed, moving to the sink to drain out the pot. “Don’t worry, I’ll make another one.”

“My hero.” Keith teased, earning a grin from Lance.

Keith watched comfortably as Lance went around the kitchen, to the same places he’d seen Keith go to pull out the ingredients from before. Keith watched, slightly impressed by the steadiness and confidence of Lance’s hands as he poured water and the pasta shells with near no hesitance. It was kinda nice to see Lance moving around like this in his kitchen.

“Mmm, so this’ll take a bit longer now. What should we do while we wait?” Lance’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Oh! I know, let’s play 20 questions.”

Keith snorted out loud at that. “What, are we twelve?”

“You know not all of us bring people to their house without even getting them _dinner_ first, forgive me for trying to get to know you first.” Lance teased, grin widening as Keith choked on his cup of water.

“Okay, what's your favourite colour?” Keith quickly asked, not wanting to give Lance the time to revel in his own embarrassment.

“Blue.” Lance said without any hesitation. “Yours?”

“Red. And that counts as one of your questions.”

Lance looked like he was about to say something in protest but a violent sputter of the pot caught his attention. “Damn you, Kogane.”

“Siblings?” Keith asked.

“Too many, they’re all terrible.” Lance said, though Keith could see the fondness in his eyes. “How about you? Any siblings?”

“One. Elder brother.” Keith paused for a moment, unsure if he should proceed. He say Lance looking at him encouragingly from in front of the stove. “Foster brother.” Keith added, softly. Lance didn't say anything, still looking at him as encouragingly as before.

“Pets?” Keith asked after a while.

“Dogs, _so_ many. We lived near a lot of my aunts and uncles and they had lots of dogs too and for some reason we’d end up with like _all of them_ in our house.” Lance shuddered. “I love dogs, don't get me wrong, but _so many._ And they’d always get in my things! And then I’d have to come to school with the lame excuse that my dog ate my assignment this morning, _which they did,_ but obviously no one believed me!”

Keith laughed hard at that. Lance was good at talking and good at distracting, and Keith was good at getting distracted.

“What about you?” Lance asked.

“No, no pets.” Keith finished his sentence there, however, Lance was still looking at him expectantly, encouraging him to speak more. “Uh, but my brother once brought home like 3 stray cats.”

“Oh shit, what'd you do?” Lance laughed, focused back on the pasta but still angled towards Keith attentively. Keith found himself comfortable to continue speaking, actually _wanting_ to speak more for once.

“Needless to say our parents lost it.” Keith grinned. “But they let us look after them.” Keith paused for a moment. “I kind of miss them.”

Lance smiled at that. “You know Hunk volunteers at a rescue centre and they’re always looking for fosters if you’re not looking to adopt.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice actually. Thank you.” Keith smiled softly, mirrored by Lance.

“No worries.” Lance replied, grinning up at Keith. Keith rolled his eyes. “Now, give me a question with a little more _personality_.” Lance teased.

Keith furrowed his eyebrows. _Personality?_ “Uh, favourite TV show?”

“Avatar, _hands down_. God, it’s just so GOOD!”

“I know!” Keith nodded ardently, smiling as he Lance’s eyes widen.

“ _Dude,_ you’ve seen it too? Oh my _god,_ why haven't you mentioned this before? Why have we NOT talked about this?” He exclaimed, pot forgotten as he leaned over the counter opposite Keith, bustling in excitement. “What bending type are you?”

“Is that your next question?” Keith teased.

Lance retreated in slight anguish. “No, ah shit, wait, uh.” He paused to think. “What's your favourite TV show?”

“Lance, you can't just copy all of mine. At least _try_ to be a little original, something with _personality._ ” Lance’s eyes narrowed at that, causing Keith to grin widely. His face quickly mirrored Keith’s amusement, brandishing a beautiful grin.

“Fine,” he mock groaned. “Uh, why do you have a mullet?”

That took Keith off guard, almost choking on the water he was drinking. He blinked his eyes a few times before replying.

“It’s _not a mullet._ ”

“Agree to disagree, that thing is definitely a mullet.” Lance then smiled slyly. “Don't worry, it’s kinda hot though.”

Keith once again found himself caught off-guard. If Lance noticed the slight blush creeping up Keith’s neck he didn't comment on it. “Honestly, I just never bother to cut my hair.” Lance nodded, seemingly accepting this as an adequate response.

“Favourite band?” Keith asked. ”Other than ABBA.”

Lance groaned at that. “I’m a complex guy, I do have _other_ favourite bands even though ABBA’s greatest hits are in fact _the_ greatest hits of all the hits, ever.” Keith smiled to himself at Lance’s enthusiasm. “But I don't know, my music taste is kinda all over the place. One moment it’ll be your emo shit and then like female R &B. There is no constraining my taste, she's limitless.”

“Fall out boy isn’t _‘emo shit’_.” Keith scoffed. “Recently they’re more... alternative.”

“Yeah sure, whatever helps you sleep at night. What question are we on?”

“I don’t know but I’m taking that as a question.” Keith grinned as Lance’s eyes widened in incredulously, quickly cutting him off before he could protest. _More personality._ “Why Physics?”

That seemed to catch Lance off guard a little, eyes a little surprised as he turned the gas off. But then he smiled softly, coming to Keith and leaning over the small counter to look at him. “I kind of just love it, you know?” His eyes were a little glazed, face _so soft_. Keith didn't really ‘know’ but he found himself wanting to nod nonetheless. “It's just something I’ve always been interested in since I was a kid and like, the only thing I was ever good at in school. I’ve just been a bit lucky with that, I guess, and so pursuing it made sense.” Keith smiled back, enjoying the way Lance just looked so content in talking.

“Why flowers?” Lance didn't seem to notice the way Keith’s smile dropped, how his blood chilled at those words since the other boy kept smiling warmly.

Keith could feel his heartbeat picking up, racing ahead, the sudden increase in pulse made apparent by his sudden need for more oxygen. He could feel the panic uncoiling in his stomach, thick and venomous, churning and clutching.

But then he looked back at Lance’s smile, so encouraging and warm, and he felt the words leave his mouth before he could even process what he was doing.

“It was my mother’s shop… she loved them. She spent every day  here, every hour caring for each plant in the shop. She practically lived and breathed this place...” Keith’s voice trailed off, losing some of its strength.

“You don't have to say any more than you want to.” Lance said softly, looking up gently at Keith.

“I want to.” Keith insisted, albeit shakily.

“Okay, your turn, ask me anything you want to know.”

Keith paused for a moment, what _did_ he want to know about Lance? He felt like the boy was an open book, so _good_ at talking and oversharing. Not that Keith minded of course, not anymore.

“How do you know Hunk and Pidge?” He asked after a while. He felt a strange sense of accomplishment at the way Lance practically beamed at his question.

“We all met in high school, same intro to astrophysics class. It’s kinda crazy actually, we were paired together for a group project and at first we all _hated_ each other,” Lance chuckled, a light, sweet sound as he carried on. “So we didn't talk for a while, but then we were nearing the deadline and we haven't done _anything_ so we forced ourselves together and pulled an all-nighter and I don't know, we just clicked.”

“A stereotypical enemies to friends?” Keith teased. Lance grinned.

“Something like that. I don't know, kinda just being forced to talk made us realise how awesome we are together.” Lance leaned off the counter, turning his attention instead to the cooked pasta. “Now, how do _you_ know Pidge?” Lance asked, somewhat absentmindedly now occupied with draining the water. Not for the first time that night Keith's blood froze, panic slowly uncoiling and rising from his stomach.

“We met in high school.” Keith said, voice small. “We were close.”

Lance suddenly stopped what he was doing, looking a little uncomfortable and squirming slightly.

“What's wrong?” Keith asked.

Lance looked up hesitantly. “I want to ask you something, but I’m not sure if I should.”

“Shoot.” Keith said with a friendly smile, hoping to emulate even _some_ of the patience and encouragement Lance had been feeding him so far.

Lance still seemed hesitant, but spoke despite himself. “What happened with you and Pidge?”

Keith paused, smile dropped completely. “Has Pidge told you anything?”

“I know something happened but they said it was for you to tell.”

 _Of course they would_.

Keith ordinarily would’ve taken this as his cue to leave. He didn't like people praying, didn't like laying his emotions and his past out for someone like that. But for some reason he found himself wanting to talk to Lance, feeling almost as if he owed it to him.

“I was a dick in high school.” Keith said slowly, after a while. Lance’s full attention was on him now, blue eyes radiating pure _warmth_ and still concern. “I said some awful things to Pidge, they said some awful things back and then we stopped talking. Then I graduated, Pidge was still in high school, we always don't talk anymore so I never looked back.”

Lance didn't say anything, waiting patiently for Keith to finish.

“Maybe I should have.” Keith mused, thinking back to his time in high school. It wasn't a particularly pretty time, once that he had hence opted to erase completely from his memory he was forcing himself to relive it now for the first time in months, years even.

But at the same time it didn't feel necessarily like he was _forcing_ himself, more like lifting off a heavy weight. It was difficult, a little strenuous but in the end he was moving it away.

“No, I definitely should have.” Keith corrected. “These past few weeks made me realise how much I’d missed them.”

Lance smiled at that. “Pidge is pretty amazing - that I can wholeheartedly agree with.”

Keith nodded ardently.

“But,” Lance added, eyes looking at him a little more reprimanded. “You’re not the only one in the wrong.” Lance slid a bowl in front of him. Keith welcomed the distraction for his eyes to stare into. “There's more than one person in every relationship, don’t beat yourself up alone.”

In that moment, Keith was a little bit in awe of Lance, of his kindness and steadiness. It wasn't something he’d noticed before, but it wasn't something new either. He supposed it had always been there.

“Thanks, Lance.” Keith said softly, not looking up from the dish in front of him out of fear that the rising heat in his neck would give him away. “Not just for cooking.”

Keith couldn't see him but he could _feel_ the brightness of his grin.

“Anytime.”

 

 

* * *

 

Keith found himself once again experiencing something a little new. Well not entirely new, but it _felt_ new.

“There's a meteor shower next week,” Pidge had said excitedly one morning in the shop. “We _have_ to go.”

He’d been apprehensive at first to accept the group’s invite to go out, but one mention of _stargazing_ and a very long conversation remembering all the previous time and Lance insisting with a pout that ‘we’re gonna make much better ones!’ had him where he was now, hours away from the shop in a field in the middle of nowhere under the stars.

He didn't mind it at all thought.

“Feels strange, doesn't it?” Pidge said with a chuckle, sitting down next to Keith in the grass.

It was an open meadow, littered with quite a few other eager astronomers all set out in their own spaces. They were further away from the main crowd which was nice, and far enough away from the city to appreciate the pure luminosity of the sky.

“I’ve never been able to do this outside of the city.” Keith admitted. “It feels so familiar, but also not quite. Reminds me all too well of how we’d hang out, before…” Keith trailed off, suddenly unable to talk as freely before, the words getting caught in his throat.

Pidge shuffled slightly beside him. “I’m sorry.” Pidge said after a while.

“You have _nothing_ to be sorry for.” Keith said sharply, turning to look at Pidge.

“No, I do.” they sighed. “And these past few weeks I’ve been ignoring it, using excuses of ‘it's not the right time’ to hide behind because I’m a coward who couldn't confront you.”

Keith gulped at that, he knew exactly what Pidge meant. He’d been subconsciously avoiding this confrontation too.

“I’ve thought about you a lot, you know.” Pidge added. Keith's mouth went dry. “And about how immature I am.”

“No, Pidge, I’m older. I should have handled it better.” Keith sighed, looking down. “These past few weeks have been so good. I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate having you around.

“I shouldn't have called you those things, you were going through struggles and transitions and I flat out _invalidated_ you. I was a total dick.” Keith had struggled to find the words earlier, but now that he’d loosened the tap on his memories the feelings came rushing out, the apology he’d held onto for so long gushing out. “Ever since I lost my mother I’d become so, _reckless_ , and harsh on you. I was _so_ harsh on you Pidge.” Keith’s voice was small.

“No, I should’ve have supported you better.” Pidge insisted, voice grievant. “That day where you left school, I should’ve been there for you instead of yelling and calling you selfish.” their voice faltered a bit. “I could have helped you.”

Keith’s memories flickered, somewhat incomplete. Visions of a highway, then a car crash, image tinged with red-hot anger and alcohol.

“I should have apologised.” They both said at the same time, looking at each other properly for the first time since sitting down, both surprised.

Pidge broke into a smile first. “We were both kind of awful, weren’t we?”

Keith smiled back. They stayed like that for a while, beside each other, allowing themselves to just enjoy each other’s company. The past wasn't fully resolved - it would take more time for that - but it hurt Keith less to think about it.

“Quick, come here, it’s starting!” Lance called out.

Keith and Pidge got up hurriedly, rushing a few metres ahead to where their equipment was set. Hunk was already at the telescope, laptop nearby plugged into some third party device and hand scribbling down on a notebook which Keith was sure could not be legible. Pidge rushed over to Hunk’s side excitedly, eyes fluctuating quickly between the sky and the laptop and Hunk’s scribbling (he wouldn't even look away from the telescope, _how was he doing that_?).

Keith turned to see Lance, who was laying down on his back on their mat and gesturing him over. Keith joined him quickly, head falling back on the mat beside him just in time to see the first few flashes of light dart across the sky. Keith let out a soft gasp of amazement, echoed by the other around his and a awed hush fell over what seemed like everyone at the grounds.

They lay like that for a few moments, all awed by the mystical pathway the orbs took over them, hot arrows of white and silver dancing around in their vision. Keith had never felt so happy to feel so small.

“Hey,” Hunk quipped after a while. “What do you think happens to us when we die?”

Keith felt a sickening churn in his stomach at the question.

Pidge noticed and tried to change the course of the conversation. “That’s a little sombre, isn’t it?”

“I like to think we’re all made of stardust.” Hunk said, almost in answer, still looking of contently at the sky.

“You’re such a big softie.” Lance teased. “I don't know about stardust, but it's nice to think that death isn’t the end though, I suppose.”

He turned to look at Lance, who had a similar type of wonder etched across his face as he gazed up. The churning in his stomach subsided.

“It’s quite different from when we were kids.” Keith said after a while with a chuckle.

“It’s the same sky.” Pidge replied. Keith was about to say something to defend his statement when Pidge continued. “But yeah, somehow it feels different.”

They didn't have to expand on it further for Keith to know exactly what the meant. They’d matured slightly, become different people and were now also surrounded by different people.

“It’s kinda nice though, right?” Lance spoked up. “This feels different from when the three of us would do it.” He then turned to Keith, meeting his gaze (Keith had maybe been staring at him instead of the stars. “Keith, you’re kinda quiet, but you make this feel so different.”

Keith couldn't reply back, occupied with the way Lance met and held his eyes, almost freezing them in their place. He could tell there were still rocks flying over his head, beautiful in every right but he couldn't make himself look away from Lance. It didn't help that Lance was attractive, somewhat ridiculously so, because he really was. Sharp jaw and tall cheekbones the shone and gleaned under the moonlight and the passing meteorites, shadows playing out a perfect show on his skin.

“A good different?” Keith whispered out, voice weak as he was still caught in Lance’s hold.

Lance grinned in response.

“That's for us to find out, I suppose.”

 

* * *

 

Lance was still loud, and whiny, and annoying, but he had become a somewhat regular presence at the shop. Keith didn't encourage it, but he found himself struggling to complain when he was all too occupied with high maintenance _weed_ , and Lance would sometimes talk to a customer. Or when he would entertain that _way too handsy_ kids that were all too abundant in this neighbourhood. Or when he would joke around with some of the regulars, causing people to laugh any smile who Keith _swore_ he’d never seen do anything except for glare.

Lance was kind of magnetic, attracting the best of people.

He’d charmed some of the shop’s regulars too, people who’d been coming around for longer than Keith had been alive even in a matter of weeks.

“Miss Park,” Lance would begin, head resting on his hands as he shot a dazzling smile at the woman over the counter. “I do have to say, you look absolutely _ravishing_ in that sunhat of yours. Purple truly brings out your eyes.”

The old lady would merely chuckle, turning to Keith to pick up her bouquet. She came in weekly for the same one, so Keith would almost always have it read in advance wrapped for her in her favourite delicate lilac tissue paper. She thanked him with a smile, turning back to Lance.

“You’re certainly a type of flower unique to _this_ store.” She’d joke around a little more with Lance, wink at Keith and depart with a promise to return next week.

When she left Keith would notice Lance squinting over the flower chart. As his eyes scanned through, Keith noticed his face drop, eyes lowering.

“You always know what she wants,” he said softly.

“She’s been coming here nearly every week for years.” Keith replied sympathetically, recognising the smallness which had consumed Lance.

“I think I noticed Cypress and Delphinium?”

“Mourning and an open heart.” Keith recited. Her bouquet was one of the few he had memorised. “For her husband's grave, she brings a fresh bouquet every week almost without fail.” Lance’s face fell further, the grief evident. Keith felt a pang in his chest.

“She’s been through a lot.” He added. “You know, I’ve seen her nearly every week for the past 12 years, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile as much as she does with you.” Keith paused, before deciding to just muster up his courage and be out with it. “Thank you.”

Lance looked shocked, speechless. He remained like that for a moment before smiling back gently. “Guess I’ll have to come back here every week too, you know, to make sure it stays that way.”

 

* * *

 

 

Keith thinks his opinion about Lance is changing, slightly.

Lance still comes around the shop often, almost every day in fact. He always ends up buying some dumb romantic bouquet, always with a wink and a grin and story of the _‘magic’_ Keith worked. Keith doesn't think he’s ever had to use the flower chart so often before, as Lance almost always asks for some obscure flower’s meaning and then almost always has to argue about it. He leaves quite promptly after, but sometimes he also stays around and when he does, still asks way too many questions, but they’re less annoying for some reason.

It's a little strange but when Keith thinks about Lance now he thinks about sunshine and warmth. Not that he thinks about Lance that much. He definitely doesn't think about how whiny and childish the boy could be, but also how good natured and easy going he was. Nor does he focus on how Lance always listens to him when Keith goes off on a tangent about soil acidity in their state, in that attentive way only Lance seems to manage that makes Keith feel like he's at the centre world. And Keith _definitely_ doesn't think about how over the past month he’s laughed more often than he can ever remember doing in the last few years.

Keith wasn't dense, but he wasn't exactly the best at reading people either. He was especially horrific at reading himself. He could feel that something had changed, slightly, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was that made his heart _flutter_ so violently without any warning.

He chose to blame it on hay fever.

(Not that Keith had ever had hay fever, of course.)

As the days continued to go by the sounds of the bell became more and more frequent and the colours of the shop became softer, still as bright as before but somehow warmer. He began to dread his shifts in the flower shop a little less.

On a particularly warm day, the shop’s bell chimed loudly followed by a jerk open of the door.

“Keith! You won’t believe it!” Lance exclaimed, storming forwards and slamming his backpack down on the counter forcefully. Keith quickly scanned around the shop to ensure there were no other customers around. He may have gotten used to Lance but that didn't mean other people were as accommodating.

“What?”

Pidge peered out of the backroom at the commotion, making their way over as they realised it was Lance.

“Hey.”

“Pidge, this involves you too. And Hunk, is he back there too?”

“Yeah, I’m right here.”

Keith snapped his head around in surprised to see Hunk emerge from the backroom.

“When did he get here?” Keith asked Pidge. Pidge merely shrugged in response.

“I found Allure’s secret!” Lance exclaimed dramatically, eyeing all of them intensely as he proceeded. “She has a boyfriend, and his name is _Shiro._ ”

If Keith had been drinking water he would’ve spit it all out at that moment.

“Aw dude, that sucks.” Hunk said, sadly, moving forward to Lance to give him a hug.

“Yes! Yes it does suck! Thank you!” Lance replied, accepting the hug graciously.

Keith turned to Pidge. “Allura, as in Lance’s long time crush?”

“Yup.” Pidge replied, popping the ‘p’.

“And Shiro, as in my brother.”

“Yup.”

“Lance’s long time crush in also my brother’s long-time girlfriend.”

“Damn, your last name should be Holmes or something.”

“Should we… tell him maybe?”

“No way. This is too fucking funny.”

“My life has no meaning anymore.” Lance announced.

“Did it have any to start with?” Hunk said, phrasing it more like a question. Pidge laughed at Lances incredulous reaction, and just as the dramatists had started they finished and everyone went back to doing whatever they were doing before.

“I take it you’re not looking to buy a bouquet today?”

“Depends, do you have a flower that means ‘Dump Him’?

“Fresh out of stock, I'm afraid, buddy.”

Lance groaned and went to the backroom to bother Pidge and Hunk instead. He did this for a while in rotations, pestering Pidge or Hunk or Keith, or even sometimes working or alone, or _even, helping them with their work._ All through, Keith observed the three of them closely, the slow sales day making it all too easy to get lost in his thoughts despite the music blaring through the speakers (Lance automatically streamed his Spotify playlists every time he came in. He’d make a new playlist even few days, someone even include a few of Keith’s favourites).

Keith found himself amazed and somewhat awed by their groups’ dynamic, by their familiarity with each other. How when Lance would get too close to a plant, Hunk would be there to pull him back almost as if he _knew_ exactly what would go wrong. Or when Lance would rephrase someone else’s question to Pidge to get the perfect answer out of them, as opposed to the factual one-word answers they would typically give to simple questions. They knew each other so well, knew how to accommodate and support each other.

He wondered if he’d ever have that kind of familiarity with anyone, if anyone would care for him or if he’d ever have anyone to care for.

“Shut up and let me do my job, Lance.” Pidge groaned, punching the accused hard on his shoulder. Lance pouted as he rubbed the room.

“Oh, hey Pidge. I actually keep forgetting you work here.”

_“Shut the fuck up, McClain.”_

 

* * *

 

 

The sun had set letting things become cooler in the night, the little shop’s air cleared and became slightly less nauseating for Keith. He liked the night the best for this reason, it made things easier to bear. The warm yellow artificial lights filtered everything a little, making things easy to take in. Hours could go by for Keith like this, sitting in the workshop bench at the back, potting incoming shipments or working on all his neglected assignments.

The shop was silent and the plants made awful company.

He’d been here for hours, sitting alone in the backroom. Pidge had come in for a shift, but they’d seemed to have recognised the mood he was in and so didn't disturb him. Keith had been fixing another dying plant, one Shiro had insisted _‘we have to save!’_

His mother had planted it. It was a particularly resilient plant, resilient in the sense that no matter what Keith tried to do it showed no signs of improvement.

He wanted to let it die, but he tried to save it, as always.

It didn't help that he had assignments piling up. He’d switched to more online classes given the workload from managing the shop by himself, but they still added up. Keith was overworked, and tired.

A familiar soft chime broke the silence. Padded footsteps approached the door of the back room Keith was in.

“Oh! You _are_ here.”

Lance’s smile then dropped into a frown. “You look pale, have you eaten anything today?” Keith didn't respond, not wanting to lie and not wanting to tell the truth. Lance however didn't need him to say anything to understand. “Okay, let's go, I’m cooking for you.”

Keith's eyes widened in surprise. “Uh -- what? No, no it's fine.” Lance’s eyes narrowed and he looked like he was about to launch off on a long speech in protest, no Keith quickly cut him off. “Besides, I don't have any food in my fridge.”

Lance paused for a moment, thinking over Keith’s words. Then his face morphed into a sly smile, eyes sparkling. “That's no problem at all. Come to my place.”

“What?” Keith managed to choke out.

“Come to my place.” Lance then grabbed his hand and grinned, accelerating Keith’s already panicked heartbeat further. “I have my car - I’ll drive.”

“But I need to run the shop.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “It's almost midnight, dude, _no one_ buys flowers at fucking midnight. And the store is only open to 10pm anyways.”

Lance made some good points. Keith nodded slowly and before he could process what was happening he was being pulled towards the entrance door, Lance’s grip tight on his wrist.

“Wait -- fuck, _Lance_. Let me at least lock up and shit.”

Lance quickly let go of his hands, cheeks heating up slightly in embarrassment but he still maintaining his wide grin. Keith rolled his eyes, turning to head back to the backroom to get his phone and keys, going around the shop and checking everything was ready to close for the night. He shortly joined Lance outside of the shop after locking the door.

“Let’s go.”

Lance’s car was nice. Keith didn’t know a lot of about cars, never needed to when he’d had his motorbike since high school (he’d never concerned himself with much else), but he felt like it was a really nice car. Simple, but it drove, as it should.

Maybe it was just because it was Lance’s. Somehow Keith felt like it contrasted- _no_ , complimented him perfectly. Simple, but reliable and effective. It was kind of how Lance was behind the charades.

“Ah, I think my sister left this here.” Lance commented holding the disk in his hand. “The Fray’s best hits. It’s not a bad album by any means, kind of spectacular actually, but a little too emo for my current mood.” He ended with a dramatic sigh causing Keith to snort.

“You meet your siblings often?” Keith asked. “You talk about them a lot.”

“Not often enough, honestly.” Lance mused, hand on the wheel and eyes on the road. “I hate them all, but also I love them more than anything else, and I really miss them. We meet up often, but it’s not enough.

“What about you?” Lance asked, turning shortly to flash him an encouraging smile, as if to say  it’s ok if you don’t want to talk. “I know you have a brother, right?”

“Yeah, elder brother, you’ve probably seen him around the shop a lot.”

“Nope, actually.” Lance said, face scrunched in concentration. “Does he live here?”

“Yeah, well he moved back here recently for work. Let me get a pic, this is actually from a few years ago, I don't save recent ones.”

“I wouldn't save pics of my brothers either, idiots all of them.”

Keith rolled his eyes, holding the phone of for Lances view. Lance’s eyes were on the road, they were along a highway so Lance could not risk focussing too long on the side. Keith didn't mind, he took the opportunity to look at Lance patiently, appreciating the way in which the lights of tall street lights and apartments buildings they passed would flash by, illuminating the silhouette of his face.

“He’s staying with his girlfriend --- she goes to the same university as you actually. You might know her, except she’s in a post graduate course.”

“Yeah I might, what’s her name- holy shit.” Lance whistled as he finally looked at the picture Keith was holding on his phone. “Dude, your brother is like, hot.” Lance commented, eyes fixed back on the road. “ _So_ hot actually, wow, must suck to be you.”

Keith gasped incredulously. “We just had a bonding moment -- don't ruin it.”

Keith saw Lance smile widely at that, a smile that he retained the rest of the car ride (not that Keith had been watching him for the entire car ride… of course…). The ride went by quickly like that, Keith staring at Lance’s face as he tapped away and hummed along to the stereo.

“Is something wrong with my face?” Lance teased, meeting his eyes suddenly causing Keith to jump.

_Almost the exact opposite._

Keith didn't say anything in response, preferring silence.

They reached Lance’s place quickly after that. It was an apartment close to campus that he shared with Hunk and Pidge, having moved in here in their second undergrad year. It was similar to the car, simply decorated but little knick-knacks scattered here and there that screamed out the very loud personalities of its inhabitants.

“Here -- food.” Lance said placing the plate in front of him. Keith's eyes widened at the plate before him, biting back a smile as he recognised the familiar white sauce and pasta shells from a few weeks before.

“You really didn't have to.” Keith said softly, to which Lance shook his head and ‘tsked’.

“I was going to make food for myself anyways it's not that big a deal. I’m just sorry the place is so messy,” Keith _knew_ messy (he worked with soil nearly every day) and he could say for a fact Lance’s place was anything but. For such a chaotic guy his place was surprisingly tidy and compact. “I was at work all day.”

Keith paused on that. “Where do you work?”

“Ah, okay ,promise you won't laugh.” Keith nodded, apprehensively. “I’m actually doing a double degree for education and in my free-time I teach at a kindergarten.”

Keith had known Lance for a while and he knew how thinly spread Lance’s schedule was. It was surprising that he still made that dumbass drive all the way out here when on top of all his schoolwork (which he complained about, a lot).

Maybe he shouldn't have but Keith let himself imagine Lance at a kindergarten playing around with kids, teasing them, helping them, looking after them.

Keith couldn't decipher the wide lateral movements his heart was making at that moment, fighting against the restraints of his chest.

He thought again of Lance with the kids, of Lance in the future. He wondered where Lance would go, and realised he didn't know.

In that moment he also realised how little he knew about Lance. Well, actually, he knew a lot, couldn't help it when the boy came over nearly every day and talked his ear off for hours about every little thing that happened. He knew too much about the boy, but they were little things like his Subway order, his favourite cat breed, or his neighbour who he swore was some sort of criminal hacker. He could predict how Lance would react in a conversation, knew little things that would cheer him up or set him off. Keith knew his favourite tv show and characters, how many episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine he’d binged watched last Friday or how far along he was on his Avatar rewatch.

But he didn't know the big things, Lance’s studies, his career path. He didn't know what he wanted to be, where he wanted to go. He supposed he might not really know Lance at all.

“It totally contradicts my bad boy image, doesn’t it?” Lance sighed dramatically, teasingly.

No, he knew Lance well enough. The rest would come with time.

Keith bit back a smile. “So, you want to be a teacher?”

Lance smiled sheepishly, moving his hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “I, uh, I don't know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I… don’t really know what I want to do, or be for that matter.” Keith couldn't respond, stunned. “I do however know what I like to do and what I don’t like to do.”

“You like teaching?”

Lance beamed. Keith struggled to find his voice. “I _love_ it. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do anything with it but I absolutely adore working with kids. And, I know this sounds so cliché, but I sincerely believe that if you do something you love, you’re never really _working_ a day in your life.”

Keith supposed there had been a time in his life where he hadn't worked in the flower shop, when instead he’d run through in between the towers of fauna, mystified by their vibrancy. He had loved it here, once, but he’d also seen the way his mother slaved over the shop, earning almost nothing in return and for what? The flowers just wilted and then they didn’t come back. Keith had come to see his mother within all the flowers, especially since she didn't come back either.

He’d worked here every day since.

Keith looked at Lance who was still beaming, his eyes sparkling with something indescribably _bright_ . Everything about him was so _bright_.

He had never met anyone so _free_. Someone like that deserved to live well, to live happily. Keith had never known such happiness but sitting here across from the other boy who was grinning so widely and fondly at him, he thought maybe he could learn.

 

* * *

 

 

There was a bottle of alcohol opposite of Keith. He supposed it looked nice, the light caught its edge and shined through the thick borders, reflecting and refracting through. He decided it was so pretty that he had to drink it; it was only fair.

This cycle repeated itself, bottle after bottle emptied. Keith didn't hide store much in the shop besides cider, meaning he needed a lot more to numb his mind.

It was that day again today, her birthday. It was a happy day warranting, that's why he was celebrating by getting drunk in the dark in a corner of the shop.

Maybe he would drink so much that he’d pass out, and maybe if he was really lucky, he wouldn't wake up.

That brought a smile to his face, and he brought the bottle up to his lips.

Keith heard a loud creak of the door opening and it was like the spell he was in crashed. Suddenly everything was as it was, dark and cold. He was alone on the floor, shivering, empty bottles in hand.

He heard footsteps approaching and tried to get up but slipped on the floor. He looked down at his arms and hands, noticing for the first time how sweat-drenched they were. He felt all too hot suddenly, suffocated. The footsteps came closer and he could see a play of shadows on the ground as a figure rounded the side of the counter.

“Keith, why are all the lights off- _Holy shit!_ ” The familiar voice shouted in surprise. Keith squinted his eyes as he turned to look at him, the one source of light from the streetlamp right outside the window of the shop illuminating his figure, directly behind Lance.

“Hey.” He croaked out in response.

Lance’s eyes widened in shock and suddenly he was on his knees, arms around Keith pulling him up.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I probably wasn't.” Keith tried to meet Lance’s eyes, but his own were drawing in and out of focus. It was annoying; Lance had really nice eyes.

“Shit. Let's get you back to your place.”

Keith nodded after a few moments, but by then Lance had already began to carry him across his shoulder to the back room, expertly taking him up the stairs as he had already done countless times (without having to carry Keith, but semantics). Keith was struggling to stay focused on what was happening the reality of the excessive bottles of fucking pear cider (literally, the worst kind) catching up with him.

He supposed Lance had unlocked the door because suddenly they were in his place. The lights were off, and Lance couldn't reach them without letting go of Keith so he let them stay off, choosing to walk across to his bedroom instead. Keith had left the curtains of the large living window undrawn and yellow light streamed in from the streetlamp directly outside, illuminating the place sufficiently.

“Here, rest against the wall. Let me just check your room.” Lance said, resting Keith against the wall right outside the door of his room. Keith hummed in response, not really registering what Lance was saying as his eyelids moved up and down slowly, his eyes out of focus. He could see a light flicker on, and then promptly flicker off. He hummed again in approval, it was better with the lights off.

Lance re-emerged quickly from the door. “Your room is an absolute mess, just stay of the sofa.” He pulled Keith off the wall and took him over to the sofa. Keith welcomed the soft surface, lying down on his back immediately and closing his eyes. “How do you live like this?” Lance scolded, joining him on the sofa.

“Living is tiring.” Keith whined, then collapsing forward onto Lance. He stayed like that for a while, head in the crook of Lance’s shoulder when the other boy suddenly pushed him off. Keith frowned.

“Shit, Keith, you’re burning up. Hold on a sec.” Lance moved away and Keith felt the cold shock of his absence. He quickly returned a moment later placing something on his head which caused Keith to jolt up, eyes wide in surprise. “Chill, dude, it’s a cold towel, I think you have a fever.” Lance’s hands were back on his chest, pushing him gently back down onto the sofa.

Keith’s mind was still too hazy to protest. Definitely because of the alcohol and _not_ because he liked having Lance’s hands on his chest.

Lance pushed him over slightly, sitting on the edge of the sofa with him. He was looking down at him, eyes bright with ever present amusement but also slight concern.

“Nah, I think I’m just drunk.” Keith mumbled, causing Lance to smile fondly. The corners of his smile tilted up as he met Keith’s gaze, realising the other had no intention of looking away. Keith paused for a moment. He knew he would probably regret this in the morning, but for now the question was burning on his tongue.

“Why did you come here tonight?”

That seemed to catch Lance off guard. The smile fell off his face, eyes slightly widening in surprise. “I just needed a bouquet, as always. Wasn't that obvious?”

Keith pressed. He needed to know more and in his current state he wasn't thinking the consequences through completely.

“Why do you keep coming in when you’re not interested in Allura anymore?” Keith hadn't been sure of that, but the way Lance’s eyes widened in surprise proved him correct. Lance hadn’t checked the flower chart for _romance_ in a while, instead just hanging around the shop more than working on his courtship.

Lance didn't speak up for a while. For a moment Keith felt like he’d crossed the line and the other boy would snap. He was about to apologise when the other boy spoke up.

“They’re uh… for someone else. I’m meeting someone else…”

_Oh._

Keith could feel like Lance was still hiding something, almost _hear_ the way the other boy’s heart was probably racing, eyes clouding with guilt. Keith had seen him so often for so long that he _knew_ there was more that Lance wasn't telling him.

“I’m sorry.” Lance said after a while when Keith didn't respond, voice soft and eyes looking down. Keith stared at him, dumbfounded by his statement. It stung Keith slightly, to see the other boy look so small.

“For what?” Keith managed to choke out.

“For not telling you.”

But he wouldn't ask about it, drunk or not, Keith knew there were things that couldn't be done. Keith knew Lance, knew how kind he was and how fixated he got on other people’s opinions, he knew how easily the other could get hurt. Keith didn't want to hurt Lance, he was okay with being lied to, okay with not being important enough to know the truth.

“It’s okay.” Keith tried to smile reassuringly at the other panicking boy, but it lacked sincerity. “There's no reason for you to have.”

“No, Keith,” at that Lance frowned, focusing his gaze on Keith’s. His eyes were darker in the night, and Keith could see the layers of emotion in them, as transparent as ever. Lance’s genuine guilt, and then genuine concern shining through so clearly. It made Keith feel guilty, for ever offering the other boy something less than fully sincere. “You’re my… uh... my friend. I really care about you, dude, a lot.”

_Oh._

Keith went through a very complex progression of emotions right there. There was something bitter sweet about it. He'd never been told he was cared about by someone not his family before. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system but it felt like everything disappeared, like all the lights suddenly went off and the only thing he could see was Lance ahead of him.

Keith felt like he was physically falling apart, an intense wave of emotions crashing against him tearing down towers and walls. Everything was falling and his mind was racing ahead, thought a blur emotions like colours fighting for reign each brighter than the one before attacking his headspace. Everything suddenly because so _intense_.

And then it dies down and his sight tunnel-visioned to the boy in front of his smiling gently, grey blue eyes full of so much concern and care.

Keith gulped, _hard_.

 

* * *

 

They went out more often after that, Lance visited more frequently especially in the night to take Keith (read:  _ force _ Keith) to eat.

“God, sometimes I feel like a parent,” Lance complained, eyes narrowed ( _ fondly _ ) at Keith. “Can't you take care of yourself?”

They didn't talk about the night, and Keith was kind of glad. He was nervous at first that Lance would go away after seeing him like that, but he realised he had nothing to fear. Keith did protest, not that he wanted to really.

He needed to give Lance more credit, truly. He was nothing like Keith had thought he’d be when the first met.

“I like it when you have to work for me better.” Keith would tease, to which Lance would grab his wrist and pull him along with a grin.

Often it would end in them staying out way too long. Way too long.

Some nights they’d end up looking at the stars. A professor didn't show up for one of their classes so Pidge and Hunk had brought their telescope in and actually (using some university-provided equipment) jacked it up. They’d go around to different roofs in the city, sometime drive out again. Not for any special occasion like last time, just to be around each other and talk about the universe. Keith had never known a group of people so passionate and reckless, so fully engaged in what they loved.

He looked around at the group of kids who over the last few months had somehow become a major part of his life, smiling to himself. Nights became weeks and sooner than he could comprehend he’d found himself something akin to a family, a group of friends he wasn't beginning to trust and fully rely on in a way he’d never had before.

It was nice,  _ so  _ nice.

Shiro had noticed too, naturally, but he didn't comment too much on it. He just joked around with Pidge and Hunk like nothing had changed even though everything had changed for Keith. Shiro was good at that, being consistent.

It reminded Keith of Lance.

Allura came by the shop sometimes too, somehow familiar with Pidge and spent a while there too. It was kind of strange, the six of them together, but somehow it also  _ worked _ so well.

It had been awkward at first, or at least to Keith. They’d never told Lance about Shiro and Allura, so Keith had been worried about his reaction. He hadn't wanted the first time for Lance to  _ properly _ interact with his brother to be one he hated (not that Keith cared,  _ of course _ ).

“Shit, Lance, are you okay?” Hunk had asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern as Shiro entered the shop with Allura, both of them hand in hand and laughing in that familiar way only couples managed to do.

Lance looked at Hunk in confusion, and then at Keith who gestured with his head to the couple at the door. Lance’s mouth formed a slight ‘o’, confusion morphing into surprise. Then his face fell into his signature radiant smile, a softer one primarily for himself Keith supposed.

“Nah, I think I’m over it.” Lance had mused. He looked so  _ happy _ , so content in that moment.

Seemed like Lance had met someone good.

Keith felt like he’d forgotten how to breathe. He’d had to excuse himself from their conversation, running in the backroom to finish  _ choking _ on his feelings. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling, but he felt powerful waves of giddying excitement and crushing anxiety.

After that Keith came back to a marginally different conversation, and a marginally different relationship. Keith couldn't pinpoint where it had begun but he’d began to notice a change in his interactions with Lance, a deeper synergy. There had been some sort of shift that had him leaning into Lance a little more every so often, something that had him letting himself smile more, grin and bark a laugh every so often. Leans that had him getting a stronger hint of Lance’s cologne, hearing more of his laughs and chuckles and  _ giggles _ , the ones that had Keith  _ reeling _ .

Things were good, could be better, but they were good. Keith had never felt so satiated in his entire life.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith spent a lot of time over the next few days just pondering. Nothing much had changed; he still went to the shop every day, studied in his free time (and talked  _ way _ too much with Lance in the rest). Life went on.

But he’d syncopated to a different beat, this rhythm his life had assimilated was different from the one he’d been used to. He hadn't had something this regular, this frequent to depend on. The hours between customers were long, hours between Lance’s visits even longer and so when Keith was alone, no Pidge or Shiro to occupy his attention, he let himself just think.

There were decisions that had brought him to where he was now, decisions that had surrounded him with the people he was with now, but hard as he tried he couldn't isolate them. All his choices just blurred, but they did seem to have one clear root of origin.

So then, naturally, his mind wandered to Lance.

This happened often, his psyche would fixate around and over the other boy and linger,  _ pester _ . But where it had made Keith intolerable at first, it felt somewhat comforting, natural.

“Earth to Keith?”

A voice snapped Keith out of his thoughts, and his eyes resumed focus to a small hand waving around his line of vision.

“Wh-what?” he stuttered out, backing up slightly.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Pidge mused. “You were kind of out of it, sleeping on the job?”

“No,” Keith scoffed. “I was just… uh… thinking.”

Pidge smiled slyly. “Oh? Daydreaming?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Pidge’s smile widened. “You know, I don't think I’ve ever met anyone else who thinks so much about Lance except for, well, Lance.”

Keith froze. Pidge leaned back in their chair in silent victory, looking smugly at Keith.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he retorted before jumping out of his seat and walking away. He then stopped and turned around. “Wait, am I that obvious?”

“Totally and utterly. You’re hopeless.”

“Yeah,” Keith breathed out, voice airy and bewildered. “I’m hopeless.”

 

* * *

 

 

Keith had come to a startling realisation. The realisation itself wasn't so much startling as the fact that  _ he _ himself had managed to realise it.

Crushes were stupid.

He had never really understood the whole facade around it, the glamour and the allure. How fully-functioning humans could be rendered so… helpless and  _ silly _ . He didn't understand the appeal, the game surrounding it. It wasn't anything like films and books depicted it, no sweet flushes of the cheek or innocent touches.

Crushes were stupid,  _ are  _ stupid.

This crush on Lance was anything but glamorous. It was all panicked and anxious skips of the heart, sickening churns in his stomach. He felt off balance, floating he supposed but in a skin crawling uncomfortable way. He fumbled around, tripped over his own sentences, stuttered (Keith _fucking_ Kogane actually _stuttered_ ) _._

He hated it, hated the way his heart would just pick up pace without any consent, how he’d start sweating and his eyes would go all wide and worse of all how he’d just become  _ speechless _ at the worst moments. He didn't want it, he didn't  _ choose _ it.

Lance made it so much worse.  _ Why did it have to be him? _

Lance was the biggest  _ flirt _ in the universe. He was overly touchy, had the most melodious laugh Keith had ever seen and met his every gaze intensely, without a fail.

This made things very hard for Keith. Little pickup lines like,  _ “If you were a flower, you’d be a damndelion” _ , followed by brash loud laughter and hands that would linger a bit on his arms, on his chest.

They were dumb and stupid but they’d always send a chill down Keith’s spine, a shiver that only Lance could cause.

Every time Lance shot a grin at him he feels his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, which was very frequent as Lance would shoot a heart-stopping grin at nearly anything that entered the shop. Keith would roll his eyes every time Lance would flirt with one of his customers, tease him when his advances usually failed. And lance would always come back with a sheepish grin and a practice pick-up line  _ ‘for next time!’ _ that Keith would also roll his eyes at (but made his heart  _ clench _ ). He knew it meant nothing, that this was just Lance - yet the bitter taste on his tongue betrayed him.

That stopped him a little, how he could say he knew Lance, knew the way in which, he behaved and his mind worked to a certain extent.

He pondered that for a moment, how familiar this routine had become to Keith, how  _ expectant _ he’d become of Lance coming through every day.

Everything had become so familiar, however, there were still instances that Keith didn't quite understand.

There was a bouquet he requested, the same every time, of calla lilies and tulips. He’d checked the meaning,  _ obviously _ , knowing how much of a sucker Lance was for the flower language chart.

_ ‘Devotion and restored innocence after death’  _ and _ ‘perfect love’. _

_ Real fucking helpful _ .

Sometimes he’d ask for the red tulips for  _ true love _ , or the purple ones for  _ loyalty _ , but apart from that, it was always the same. It didn't help that he’d always ask for them with a blinding grin, eyes alight and mischievous. 

He couldn't help but be slightly reminded of Ms Park, the reputation, unspoken demand for the same message. They were beautiful, anyways. Lance had good taste. Whoever he was getting them for must be happy.

_ “I’m meeting someone else…” _

He could hear Lance’s voice echo in his head and it sent something bitter down his throat. It certainly didn't make his crush any less stupid when Lance was clearly seeing someone else, and Keith was the fool giving him flowers too help woo whoever he was dating.

“Same bouquet every time?” Keith questioned, observing Lance carefully from the corner of his eyes.

Lance hummed in response. “Yeah.”

Keith couldn't help himself. He had come to a startling realisation, and seeing Lance everyday did not help things. His soft smile and gleaming eyes, everything about him screamed out in lividity like a performance centred around him. Everything about him called out for attention in the most subtle of ways and Keith was a hungry spectator.

“Are they for someone special?” He tried to pass it off as genuine curiosity, but he couldn’t hide the trace of bitterness in his voice.

“Something like that.” Lance was still smiling, but it was more guarded now, his face to the side as if almost hiding from Keith.

The show stopped.

 

* * *

 

 

Things were good for a while, and then they got bad.

Lance stopped coming around.

At first, Keith didn't think much of it, but then a few days became weeks and Keith was at a loss for what to do. It was radio silence from Lance, almost as if he’d disappeared off the surface of the earth.

The shop felt colder, more constricting and Keith felt dreary.

Everyday he’d wake up with anticipation, waiting for Lance to come around, but the day wet by and he was still waiting, always waiting.

He waited for nothing.

He’d tried messaging Lance a few times too. At first he stopped himself; Lance didn't owe him anything. He didn't  _ have  _ to come around to the shop, not for Keith at least. It would be selfish and foolish to ask anything from him.

Keith knew that, but he was selfish and very much a fool.

**Keith [13:51]**

Hey, are you okay? Haven't seen you in a while.

**Lance [03:45]**

yeah! sorry just been swamped with work recently.

  
Lance’s reply would always come much later,  _ too  _ much later. Keith got worried every time he’d check the timestamp and see a message sent at three, four or five in the morning. Lance would never give him much of an explanation, simply laugh off his concerns and reply back with the excuse of work. Keith didn't buy it, he’d seen what Lance was like when he was too busy, hell he’d spent hours in the shop studying during a previous midterm. Even on his busiest days, Lance would still find time to drop by, even if only to complain about how busy he was.

Keith’s stomach churned with worry.

Pidge and Hunk weren’t much help either.

Keith would see Pidge around the shop, rushing up to them.

“Hey, Pidge, have you seen Lance around? He hasn't been here for a while.” Keith tried to keep the worry out of his voice, but he knew it came through vividly.

Pidge stared back, eyes panicked and swarming with guilt.

“I’m sorry.” They’d say in response, no longer meeting Keith’s eyes.

“What do you mean?”

_ “It's not for me to tell.” _

Keith felt alone. He hadn't known what it was like before, because he’d never known the antonym. But now Lance was gone, Pidge and Hunk would barely say a few words to him and Shiro had his own life to live.

Keith was alone.

_ “Don't beat yourself up alone.” _

But he didn't know what else he could do.

Lance had always felt like an open book, easily oversharing, but in that moment Keith felt like he didn't know anything about him at all.

Keith spent the next few days anxious and tense, and unsure as to why. Although that was a lie, he knew exactly why he was so anxious, and that only made his stomach clench tighter, spending his free time staring desperately at the door, waiting anxiously to hear its familiar chime.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'll finish it nicely (i hope) in the next part promise.
> 
> pls feel free to comment ur thoughts below, or message me @starwar on tumblr or @booseungkwn on twitter tx


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